LiberTea just got hotter
by thedoctorwatcheshetalia
Summary: You know LiberTea is hot enough already, so could it possibly get any hotter? Feel free to suggest ideas for future chapter kinks so Yours Truly can write it in this sexscapade fic.
1. Voyeurism

**_Welcome to my sexscapade fic! All the chapters will be sex, pwp, sex, gross fluff and some kinks. SEX._**

 ** _Warnings: SEX, non-con to dub-con to consensual, voyeurism gone wrong and masturbating. I'm going to hell for this._**

* * *

 _Alfred F. Jones is a newly-joined first-grade teacher. His car breaks down and he goes to a house to get help, only to find his least-favorite parent..._

 _masturbating?_

* * *

If you asked the kids who their favorite teacher was, they would giggle and grin, telling you the name of the newly joined First Grade teacher, Mr. Jones. If you asked Mr. Jones, however, he would groan and duck his head back down to correct papers.

"Bye kids! See you Monday!" said the teacher.

"Bye Mister Jones!" a couple of kids called back. As soon as he was out of sight, Mr. Jones smiled to himself and practically clicked his heels. Two days of freedom.

He loved those kids to death but honestly, he had enough of them. He saw them more than their parents did! The smile slowly bloomed into a grin as his weekend's events folded out in his brain. He'd kick start the weekend with a nice date tonight and treat himself to his brother's pancakes Saturday morning.

"I saw that smile, Jones."

Alfred straightened up and laughed nervously, "Ms. Hedervary!"

The school's principal chuckled, "Tired of them already?"

Alfred shook his head, "No ma'am."

"Go on, enjoy your weekend, you earned it."

Alfred grinned from ear to ear, nodding enthusiastically and bounding off to his car. He was going to enjoy his weekend no matter what.

X

Alfred sniffled, biting his lower lip as the waiter came back around,

"Are you going to order or not?" he asked, annoyed. Alfred sighed,

"Guess not." He said, eyes downcast. The waiter's eyes softened as he regarded the tired young teacher.

"Have you been stood up?" he asked.

Alfred smiled softly before rising from his chair and shrugging his jacket over his broad shoulders. "Guess so."

The cause of his distress had been an attractive brunette who taught the class across from his. Her sparkling green eyes had dragged Alfred in like a fish on a line. Alfred had always liked green eyes… He sighed, Monday was going to be the worst day ever.

Alfred was new to the neighborhood. His good looks and charm was bound to attract people but he hadn't expected his first date to botch up. That was just horrible. That plus the school, plus the opportunities he'd gotten to tutor kids, Alfred felt like lying down and letting the world trample him.

He slowly started his car and drove down the bumpy road, flying up and hitting his head on the roof of the stupid thing every time he hit a pothole.

He needed a new car. A new wardrobe. A new goddamn house and a new everything but his salary wouldn't allow it. Instead, Alfred would just have to continue his studies online and finally get big enough to get out of the small town.

Alfred hissed as the car screeched to a halt. He thought he saw something on the road. Shaking his head, he started it again only to have his car jump and growl. Okay, maybe not.

He threw open the door, climbed out and slammed it with all his anger in his arm. When he tried to open it again, it refused. The car was cross with Alfred.

Well he was cross with it too.

He tried to push it but it wouldn't work. Instead, he went to the nearest house for help.

Thorns scraped his legs through his jeans as he trudged through the deep growth of plants by the window of the house. A warm, welcoming glow of light surrounded the window like a beacon. He crawled toward the light and peeked through, almost tapping at the glass before his jaw dropped.

On the other side of the window was the father of Mr. Jones' least favorite kid.

Arthur Kirkland.

Though the man preferred to be called Mr. Kirkland. Every other teacher would call him Arthur but somehow, the grumpy man would bristle at the sound of Alfred uttering the name. So he was always Mr. Kirkland.

Peter would always go complaining to his father about Alfred and the way he taught Maths. Mr. Kirkland was a stuck up snob and one of the rudest parents poor Alfred had talked to. The British man would constantly be correcting him on a grammatical basis, not even apologizing afterwards. Alfred found himself pretending to choke the man behind his back numerous times.

Alfred gulped and almost moved away but ended up staying and watching curiously as Mr. Kirkland fell against his bed with a groan. The window was slightly open giving the teacher complete access to everything Arthur uttered from his British mouth.

"No, Francis. You won't believe how horrid work was. I'm glad the weekend has graced me, any later and I'd be a pile of goo."

"Why am I talking to you? I don't bloody know!"

"Peter's with that stupid friend of his. I'm lucky not to have him around, I fear I could just eat the annoying boy sometimes."

"No I don't need you to make me feel better, bloody frog. I'm bloody well capable of that myself."

Alfred watched Arthur throw his phone against the bed with a growl and stare up at the ceiling.

Again, Alfred almost moved back into the bushes but stopped abruptly and let out a choked gasp as Arthur popped open the first button on his shirt, revealing protruding collars against a milky white background. Alfred gaped and found himself pressing closer against the window. He ducked when Arthur began to look around but came back up in time to see Arthur put on a soft song and pull out a box from under the bed. Arthur licked his lips as he lifted the lid gingerly, bringing out-

A vibrator.

Alfred wanted to laugh. He really did! He felt it come rumbling in his chest and threaten to come spilling out of his grinning lips but he clamped his mouth shut. He couldn't go anywhere now.

Arthur put the vibrator to the side and unbuttoned his shirt quickly. Alfred bit his lip in anticipation, his blue eyes fixed on watching Arthur undress. The man fell back against the bed with a sigh, biting his lip as if battling whether to do it or not. He then quickly shook off his trousers and palmed at the bulge in his boxers, throwing his head back in a soft moan.

God. Alfred felt beads of sweat pop at his forehead, his own bulge growing along with Arthur's. Arthur tugged impatiently at the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down to his knees and freeing his erection.

Alfred gasped, nervously fixing his glasses and staring. Arthur's erection stood tall and proud, throbbing for attention. Alfred found his hand creeping to his own neglected member but he mentally slapped himself, he was not jerking off to crabby old Mr. Kirkland and he was not going to stay there any longer. He was going to go home, pop open a coke, call Matthew and laugh about what he'd just seen.

It was then that Alfred decided that was never going to happen.

He looked around cautiously before peering back into the window. Kirkland had just closed his long fingers around his cock, slowly pumping it, collapsing back into the pillows and panting. Maybe Arthur thought he'd wake the neighbors up, or maybe it was just more comfortable, heck, Alfred didn't even know why the Brit turned to his stomach, burying his face into the pillows with that-

Holy smokes that ass. Alfred palmed at his erection furiously through his jeans as Arthur began to pump his cock faster, his ass in the air and his face buried and moaning into the pillows.

This was unreal. A dream. A nightmare. Something! It had to be something. Alfred watched as Arthur palmed for his vibrator. _It's right there, Kirkland, get it and get on with it!_ He wanted to shout.

Arthur found the vibrator and sat up, his face flushed and hair tousled. His green eyes foggy with self-lust. Alfred's eyes widened as Arthur reached for the small bottle of lubricant, spilling it over his palm and rubbing it over his fingers. He then pushed one slick finger through his entrance, the ring of muscle. Alfred watched it go in, soon to be joined by another. Alfred bit back a moan as Arthur released a loud one from his flushed lips, his fingers stretching and scissoring. Alfred bit his lip as Arthur slicked up the toy. Something pulled at his stomach and his face went sour. Suddenly, watching wasn't good enough. He had the urge to be there. To loom over the small man and fuck him into next weekend. Suddenly, Alfred was very jealous of that vibrator.

Alfred pulled out of the bushes noiselessly and felt the walls of the house all the way to the door. He then made the stupidest decision and rang the bell.

Alfred felt like a kid ding-dong-ditching his neighbor. As soon as he pushed the button, he bounded back to the window, pushing through the bushes in time to see the priceless reaction on Arthur's face.

"Shit." Arthur chanted as he pulled on his trousers, his boxers lying on the bed, forgotten. He hastily buttoned his shirt and hopped out of the room.

Alfred snickered and pushed up the window, climbing in to the bedroom and tiptoeing to the bed. As soon as he slipped under it, Arthur came walking back in.

"Bloody teenagers." He muttered before pulling his shirt over his head in frustration, his trousers pooling at his ankles before he plopped back onto the bed. "Now where was I?" he said to particularly no one as he kicked off his pants. Alfred watched them hit the floor and he suddenly felt terrified.

God. He was a criminal. A rapist. Alfred mentally slapped his needy dick but there was nothing he could do about it. God he wanted Arthur Kirkland.

With that in mind, Alfred swallowed his pride and jumped out from under the bed, climbing onto the Brit – who was back on his tummy- and gripping that plump ass of his hand and massaging it.

Arthur screamed.

Who knew someone that little could be so loud? Alfred's eyes widened and he held the kicking man down forcefully before slipping his own calloused fingers into the other's tight hole.

That didn't seem to calm him down at all. He kept on screaming bloody murder and wiggling from under Alfred's hand. Nevertheless, Alfred began to scissor inside Arthur, his fingers going knuckles deep, searching for that one-

Arthur buckled, his head dropping to the pillows with a loud moan. The noise made Alfred's cock jump, he grinned as he began to abuse Arthur's prostate.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" he said huskily, like he'd seen in the porn movies. He held Arthur down with one hand and finger-fucked him with the other. The noises Arthur made had Alfred so frustrated, so sexually frustrated. Alfred added a third finger, stretching Arthur out, prodding his bundle of nerve endings.

Arthur moaned again, whining helplessly as Alfred pulled out, moaning again as he pushed back in, his fingers striking Arthur's prostate dead on.

"W-who, nh, are y- oh bloody fuck!" Arthur cried out as Alfred's hand found its way to Arthur's leaking prick. "Who the hell are you?"

Alfred loomed over Arthur who was no longer struggling but rocking his hips back against Alfred's fingers and drooling into the pillows. Alfred pumped at Arthur's cock languidly, relishing the loud moans and the muffled panting he was eliciting out of the smaller man.

"Don't'cha remember, Mr. Kirkland?"

"A-Alfred!?" Arthur ended the name with a loud cry as he came.

Hard.

Alfred grinned and unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down to his knees before giving the other man a playful smack on the ass, "That's Mr. Jones to you."

Arthur turned over, a look of terror written across his face, "Bloody hell! Get out of my house!"

"That's not what you were saying a minute ago." Alfred said with a pout. "Besides, you said so yourself, you need a break. I can give you that break, _Mr. Kirkland._ If you'd just let me."

"W-what!? How long have you been there!?"

"Long enough." Alfred admitted, licking his lips. "And I want you, Kirkland."

Arthur blushed, pushing Alfred away and sitting up, looking at the teacher as ferociously as he could with his position, "I don't even know you... and I'll call the bloody police if you don't get the bloody _fuck_ out of my hous-"

"You don't have to." Alfred said with a grin, tossing his jeans behind him. "I mean, come on. You're horny, and so am I. I'm clean, and you're clean, right? There's nothing else to it!"

Alfred pulled his shirt over his head, smirking as Arthur gawked at his chest. "And you're obviously likin' what you're seein', so…"

Arthur bit his lip, his hands folded in his lap as if to keep Alfred from looking at his package. How cute.

"Fine." He replied, blushing down to the roots of his hair. "Just make it quick. No strings attached."

Alfred grinned, pushing Arthur down and looming over him. "None. That mean I get ta call you Arthur?"

Arthur pulled down the waistband of Alfred's boxers, heating up as he released Alfred's cock.

"Bloody _fuck_ , you can call me anything you want just put that in me."

Alfred laughed and kicked off his boxers, leaving Arthur to wait as he slicked up his member.

"Fast or slow."

"Anything you bloody well please."

Alfred laughed, "Rough or vanilla?"

"God damn, pound me in!"

"Okay, okay!" Alfred said with a grin, "Rough it is."

He climbed back over the other man, smirking as he lined them up.

"Ready?"

"God damn it! Are you always this annoying?"

"Are you always this needy?" Alfred teased. And then he pushed in, groaning as the hot tightness surrounded him. Arthur yelped, wrapping his legs around Alfred's waist. A bead of sweat came running down his face and he shut his eyes.

"Can I move?"

"God yes."

Alfred pulled all the way out before pushing back in, balls deep. Arthur wailed and scratched at his back.

"Can I keep going?"

"Yes. I'll adjust." Arthur assured. Alfred nodded and began thrusting into Arthur, moaning as Arthur clamped down on him.

"Relax." Alfred said, leaning down to lap at the junction of Arthur's neck, "When was the last time you had sex?"

"Centuries." Arthur breathed, moaning as Alfred nipped and sucked at his pale collar bone, surely leaving marks.

Alfred bit his lip and stilled, "Want this to hurt?"

"Just so I know it's real."

Alfred thrust in faster, pulling Arthur's hips back up to meet his. He was sating his carnal desire, all the while pounding mercilessly into the small man. Arthur's nails naked at his back, drawing blood, no doubt. Pained whines soon melted into loud moans as he hit Arthur's prostate dead on.

"Nh~ Alfred!" Arthur cried, his eyes shut tight. One hand wrapped around Alfred's neck and the other running down to explore the teacher's tanned muscles.

Alfred moaned at the sound of his name spilling from Arthur's lips. He leaned down and captured those lips in a crushing kiss.

 _I'm kissing Mr. Kirkland._ He thought giddily as Arthur moaned into the kiss, beginning to rock his hips back and forth to Alfred's rhythm. Alfred pulled away, kissing down the smaller man's neck. His lips closed around Arthur's pert nipple and Arthur's eyes snapped open with a loud moan.

"Keep those perdy eyes open." Alfred murmured around the pink stub. He suckled it, biting and rolling the other one around in his fingers.

"Ngh.. move, damn it!" Arthur practically screamed. Alfred laughed, gripping Arthur's hips as he rolled his hips against the Brit's.

"Like that, slut?"

"Oh, yes!" Arthur cried, drawing out the 's' as he threw his head back against the pillow, "Just like that, sir."

Arthur moaned as Alfred hit his prostate, his hands flying to Alfred's shoulders. Arthur let his fingers travel into Mr. Jones' hair, pulling the teacher down to press their lips together. Arthur let his lips part for Alfred's slick muscle and Alfred half laughed, half groaned.

"Where have you been all my life, Mr. Kirkland?"

Arthur growled in response, "So fuckin' slow! Nh-"

The smug grin melted right off Alfred's lips as he was forced onto his back. "The fuck are you doing, Kirkland?"

Arthur straddled him, lining his entrance up with Alfred's needy cock. "Too slow, Jones. It's out of your hands now."

And then, he impaled himself onto Alfred, moaning as he thrust his hips down. Deeper, faster... Alfred was sure Arthur Kirkland was an angel. An angel destined to fuck Alfred, to please him. And God, he was doing a good job.

Arthur let out another loud moan as he rode Alfred's cock like he was a warrior princess going to war on her horse, impaling himself repeatedly, lost in the sea of pleasure. He stared at the ceiling through his half-lidded eyes, his lips glistening and mumbling British curse words under his breath. Alfred smirked, the older man had never looked better, riding him like the little slut he was. Alfred reached up to pinch those perky nipples, relishing the moan he managed to elicit from just that one action. Horny bastard.

"D-do that again.. so close, so-"

Alfred grinned, pushing his upper body off the bed to suck on Arthur's nipples, groaning and thrusting his hips as Arthur clenched around him.

"F-fuck." Arthur mumbled, fingers tangled in Alfred's hair. "I'm com- coming! Ah~"

He felt his release like a wound coil springing back out, from the depth of his balls to the tip of his cock. Arthur shuddered and moaned loudly into Alfred's hair as he came, a small smile playing on the British man's lips as Alfred buried his face in the crook of his neck, thrusting half-heartedly before shooting his seed deep into Arthur with a loud moan of his own.

Alfred had just fucked Arthur Kirkland. A smile couldn't help but tug at his features as he let his hands rest at Arthur's hips. He could never forget a night like this, Alfred wondered if he made a false promise with the 'no strings attached' thing.

He lifted Arthur off his cock and set him down gently beside him, pulling out with a grunt and flopping onto his back, panting like he'd ran a marathon. Arthur just sat there, thighs trembling as he struggled to catch his breath as well. He brushed his damp bangs out of his eyes, his face heating up when he realized he'd just fucked his son's first grade teacher. How kinky was that? Not to mention that he fucked someone who'd watched him masturbate! His mother would roll in her grave! Before he knew it- and he'd forever deny it- Arthur was swiping at the fat tears rolling down his cheeks, sniffling and sobbing to himself as quietly as he could.

"Oh that was amazi- hey, you crying?" Alfred asked, coming up and tilting his head like a confused puppy. Alfred stared at Arthur, the man looked so fragile, so broken. Alfred decided then and there what Arthur needed fixed and that he would fix it. Arthur's inhale met his exhale and somehow he found himself sobbing into Alfred's shoulder, those strong, teaching arms stroking him like he actually meant something to their owner. "Shh, Arthur."

"Shut up."

"Okay." Alfred said with a laugh. Next thing he knew, Arthur was kissing the American. Not devouring those lips, no, this kiss tasted like Arthur's salty tears. This kiss was soft and slow, something their sex wasn't. "God, Arthur."

"What, you twat?"

"Didn't think you were the crying-after-sex type."

"I hate you." Arthur sniffled. "Fucking Yank."

"Well, lucky for you, I'm the cuddling-after-sex type." Alfred said slowly. Was he pushing it too far? "If you're up for it."

"Of course I'm bloody up for it. Come here are fucking kiss me you gorgeous thing."

Alfred laughed and slid in next to the Brit, taking that porcelain face in his hands and kissing his lips 'till they were swollen. Arthur had broken away to turn off the light, switch the fan on, lock the door and pull the blankets over them, sliding back into Alfred's arms. Alfred couldn't help feeling like it was too perfect, the way he and Arthur fit together. Arthur kissed him again,

"And just so you know-" Alfred said, murmuring against Arthur's soft lips, "I'm really bad at one-night stands."

Arthur smiled, burying his reddened-face into Alfred's chest.

"So am I, git."

* * *

 **Aww guys. Isn't USUK so cute?**

 **But on a more serious note, if a guy/girl really does climb through your window and does that, call the fuckin' police. Unless you're Arthur Kirkland and the man in Alfred F. Jones... just kidding. Do whatever you want.**

 **Tell me what you think and if you'd like a kink, then tell me. I'll consider it.**

 **I hope you liked my fail-smut.**


	2. A Little Experimentation

_2\. A Little Experimentation, A Little Bondage_

* * *

 **So you're still reading this? Brilliant!**

 **Warnings: Seriously guys. These are my sexcapades. If you don't wanna see it, don't read any further. Don't like yaoi? Then this is a fair warning ;) Wow I'm paranoid XD**

* * *

 _Turns out, England is attracted to BDSM. But his boyfriend is strictly vanilla, right? Well, how's that gonna work out?_

* * *

Today was the worst day in England's entire life.

Funny how it was similar to how many of England's days already were.

It had all started with the stupid conference in London. He'd expected to see his gorgeous American boyfriend (and it's not like he missed him or anything... because he _didn't),_ whom he hadn't seen or spoken to in ages! But the git _had_ to miss his plane and England was stuck with nothing to keep him going. He'd been perved on by France, then by some girl on the Tube, and he'd drawn the line at the groping at the bar! You never realize the need for a muscular boyfriend unless you've been deprived of him, England thought to himself. Not to mention the fact that he'd almost been mugged (almost being the part where he went total MI6 on the bugger). Now, England was finally home, sitting in his comfy recliner (the only reason he bought the thing was because America adored them) and sipping on a cup of Earl Gray, Excalibur on his lap. One hand stroking the feline, other hand checking emails from the laptop on his, well, lap.

 **Inbox [1]**

Finally. Something to do.

He hoped to Hell this wasn't the Bad Touch Trio again. They'd been making it a habit to email trashy things to the gentleman.

Oh. But it was.

In the email (which was from none other than our German... no, Prussian friend) was a link to some porn website poor England had accidentally (not on purpose, mind you) clicked.

And porn galore.

But this wasn't regular porn, no, this was the great and terrible BDSM, the thing he'd only ever heard of in his Erotica novels. England found himself falling deeper and deeper into its lure and by the time he shut the lid of the laptop, he knew there was no way out.

* * *

England had woken up the next day to find that he'd shot his seed into his sheets overnight. No doubt, his dreams full of whips and bondage.

 _I'm such a kinky bastard!_ He practically cursed as he bunched up the sheets and tossed them to the corner. He'd wash them later.

But by the time he'd gotten ready and had his morning cuppa, he found himself missing the git. It had been months since he'd last saw America, and with a face like his, England was almost sure he'd forgotten him.

America had that sort of childish mirth that England suspected would lead him astray when the Brit was not around. But never mind that, England was not known for being strictly faithful either. America knew that if England got lonely, he could resort to things. But that had never happened. Not because- ha, not because he _liked_ America. No, no, but because- um, well... oh come off it!

So when he heard a knock on his door that afternoon, and found said boyfriend out on his doorstep in the pouring rain, with a dripping bouquet in one hand and suitcase in the other, that goofy grin on his face... England snogged him right then and there, who cared if the neighbors saw?

"Aww, baby I missed you too!" America said with a laugh, "Just, let me in Iggy. I'm drenched!"

England scowled, "It's either England or Arthur, none of this Iggy business!"

America grinned as he closed the door behind them, shaking his head like a wet dog, obviously doing it to get on Arthur's nerves. "I'mma take a shower, then we can catch up."

"C-catch up?" England's dirty mind was full of things he'd like to do to the boy to _catch up._ Ropes, riding crops, corsets...

"Yeah babe, missed the meeting. Boss is already mad, can't disappoint, right?"

America gave him a wink before shrugging off that ridiculous bomber jacket. "Just fill me up and we can go out for dinner tonight... some fancy shmancy place too!"

 _Oh yes. How about you fill me up instead?_ England bit his lip and mentally slapped himself. "Yeah, sure. I just hope you brought some decent clothes."

"Uh...yeah." America said from inside England's bedroom... their bedroom. "What's this?"

England inhaled sharply as he scrambled over to peek in to the room, finding his lover right by the piled abomination. "What's what?"

America was pointing to the heap of soiled bedsheet. England went red. "Aww, babe. Did you get all lonely without me?"

Stupid teasing git. England shook his head, "No, that- th- that was Excalibur."

"Did you get all excited thinking about what I was gonna do to you when I came home?" America whispered. He was centimeters away from England now, and the Brit didn't know how he got there. One arm hooked around England's hips as the other hand cradled the side of the island nation's face. "Well, I'm here now."

America pressed his lips onto England's, a chaste and sweet kiss one would always expect from a naive nation like America. It was really meant to be a quick peck, but England didn't let it stay that way. The Brit cupped Alfred's face, pulling him closer and keeping him there. America laughed a muffled laugh and England took that as an opportunity to kiss Alfred open-mouthed. America pulled away for a quick breath then went back in, and Arthur hummed in consent. He parted his lips, letting America come in, or rather- telling him that he wanted him in. America chuckled, small tentative caresses of tongue blooming into a full out battle for dominance that England let America win. England was pushed back against the wall as America explored his crevices, every nook and cranny. The island nation prided himself whenever America got this way. Dominant, aggressive, roaming every inch of England's sensitive body with those rough, calloused fingertips- America was always so vanilla... and England wouldn't really mind it but... it got him wondering.

England pulled away, much to America's confusion. The island nation pressed a quick kiss to Alfred's jaw, just to let the American know he wasn't angry.

"America, do you love me?" he found himself asking. He should've felt shameless but he didn't. Instead, he relished his lover's furious blush,

"Well... duh!" America said with a laugh, "I'm crazy for ya."

England found himself blushing as well, but for entirely different reasons, "And you'd do anything-"

"Anything for ya, babe." America promised. "Why? Francey-pants need another reminder to lay off?"

"W-what!? No. It's just... Gilbert sent me a link and I-" England bit his lip, "I want to try something new."

America didn't respond. The nation looked so innocently-frazzled that it bordered on cute. "Uh... about that." America said, his adams apple bobbing. Then it struck England-

"No!" the Brit assured, "I don't have a poop fetish or anything, honest!"

America grinned, ruddy-red cheeks subsiding to their original (endearing) tan. "Okay. Then what?"

"Uh- do you by any chance... have rope?"

* * *

America bit his lip, tapping his thigh leisurely, "BDSM, huh? Like, Fifty Shades of Grey and stuff?"

England nodded, brushing his soft-blonde hair behind his ear, "I hope it's not too much, Alfred."

America shrugged, expression neutral, "I don't mind. I get it. You wanna try something new."

England's green eyes brightened and he nodded, "Yeah, that's what."

After seconds of just sitting there, the American rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I've got no idea how t-"

"I'll take care of it." England answered a little too quickly.

"Um...okay. What about safe words?"

"I won't be that rough!" England assured, "But yours could be, uh, apple pie."

America grinned, "Okay!"

* * *

"I'm freakin' out man!" The American nation exclaimed. Somehow being bound made him feel insecure or something, because he was thrashing around now, making quite a fuss.

"Ugh, just calm down, I'm not cutting into you."

"Then what!?"

England sighed, testing the last knot that kept his lover tied firmly to the bed. Each arm and leg tied to a separate bedpost.

"Just... calm down."

And England left the room at that, biting his lip and wondering if he should go on with it. What would his vanilla, happy-go-lucky lover do if he found out that England had such dirty thoughts? Would he leave England?

N-not that he minded, because he didn't. America could leave their relationship whenever he wanted, England didn't really care. N-no way! Ha!

Oh why bother. Everyone could tell he did.

So what if he still wanted America after that? That one video had finally brought out what had been missing from their relationship, the only thing that would satisfy England for the moment.

A little experimentation.

A little _bondage._

England retreated to the guest room, searching under his bed for the duffel bag full of sin he'd kept under there. Finally finding it, he unzipped it and reached in, coming back out with a pair of black stiletto heels. England's lips spread into a wide almost carnal smile. Oh yes. This was happening.

Finally.

* * *

"Oh thank God you're back, England, I was getting scared here all by myself an- WOAH!"

England smirked as blue eyes widened behind thin-framed glasses."Dude! What are you wearing!?"

"Do you like it, Alfred?" England crooned. What was there not to like? England had on a shapely-fitting black corset with lace trimming (courtesy of Roderich, the man was an exceptional corset collector), the type of corset to allow his pink, perky nipples (which America absolutely adored) to show out. Garter belt stockings, tight black leather shorts and black stiletto heels... his knuckles white around a-

"Is that a riding crop!?" America exclaimed, "A-are you using it on me!?"

"That is, if you're planning on being bad, pet." England purred, hips swaying seductively as he made his way to his American lover. Climbing onto the bed and swinging his leg over America's hips, England stood over the American, teasingly running the crop down America's shirt covered chest.

"H-hey now!" America protested, "Put that whip down-"

"Was that an order?" England asked coolly, slipping a stocking-covered foot out of a stiletto and pressing it against the American's crotch, rubbing it slowly, teasingly. "I give the orders. Not you."

Blue eyes snapped open and America hissed as the riding crop cracked across his thigh, "Owie! England- what was that for?" he practically whined.

The riding crop tapped America's cheek rhythmically, "You can call me... Master, or Sir. Ooh! How about, Captain? That does have a good ring to it, yes?"

America shivered, tugging at his bonds helplessly.

"Now this won't do at all." England murmured, his foot pressing against the growing bulge. He smirked, "We've got to get you undressed."

England slipped his foot back in the heel, sinking down and crawling over his lover to straddle America's chest, chuckling as he felt the American's hammering heartbeat under his fingertips, "Are we getting excited, love?"

"England- cut it out, babe..."

England growled, whipping the crop to strike his lover once more. America hissed, "P-please!"

"Are you sure you want that?" England purred, trailing kisses down his lover's jaw.

"Y-yeah, nh-"

England sucked on America's adams apple, chuckling as his boyfriend heated up under him. Long, nimble fingertips undid America's tie before dancing down America's chest, popping the first button of his shirt. "You better behave, pet. Then maybe I'll let you come."

"W-what!?"

Second button. Pop.

Third button. Pop.

England ran his fingertips over his lover's tan, muscular chest as he ran his fingers down, popping the buttons off America's shirt. He slid down until he was in between the American's legs, shoving the shirt this way and that before curling his fingers over America's trouser-covered thighs. "Well, well. Lookie here~"

England teased his fingers over the growing bulge in America's trousers, "Your body betrays you."

America groaned as England palmed at the bulge, "Eng- er, Master..."

"Good." England murmured, "Very good."

The American bit his lip obediently, chest rising and falling in anticipation. England smirked before setting the riding crop to the side, leaning down to mouth at America's bulge. The American groaned, shaking his head in disbelief,

"Please!"

"Beg some more." England mused. America nodded, blushing darkly as England continued to tease him, splaying his hot breath over America's growing erection.

"No one else can make you feel this way, am I right love?" England mused, fingers flitting ever-so-lightly over to unbutton America's jeans, unzipping them with his teeth. "My, my. You like this more than you let on."

England looked at his lover through his lashes. America clenched his jaw, he'd began to pant. England grinned and let his fingers splay out on America's abdomen, pressing an open-mouthed kiss against the warm, tanned skin, kissing a trail back up to America's neck. England crawled over his lover, leaning over to whisper into his ear,

"You like this, don't you? I'm going to make you a hot, groaning, begging mess, Alfred. I'm going to take you to edge and leave you there, would you like that?"

America shook his head, opening his mouth before thinking it over and shutting it again, his eyes begging all that he couldn't.

"Would you like to see what's under these shorts?"

Blue eyes widened and America nodded enthusiastically, "Uh... yes, Master!"

England shook his head and chuckled,

"Not yet. If you're good, then maybe."

England chuckled as America sighed. But he wasn't going to let his lover get so bored of him, oh no.

"But since you've been so obedient, I'll give you a little treat."

Before America could even process what England had said, the Brit had slid down to straddle America's hips so he had his back against his lover, tugging at Alfred's boxers and freeing his erection. England felt his heartbeat spike at the sight of it. The thick, dusky-red cockhead... England could hardly wait to sink down onto it, to give America the best ride he'd ever gotten. England bit his lip and gripped America's member with both his hands, his fingers curling around the throbbing heat demurely. England shot America a lust-filled look over his shoulder before leaning down to run his tongue along the shaft.

America let out a choked gasp before shutting his eyes.

England chuckled and pumped America's cock languidly, running his tongue back up the shaft and easing it into the slit before closing his mouth around the head and giving it a gentle suck. He hummed teasingly, lightly bobbing his head.

"You like that?"

America nodded enthusiastically, thrusting his hips as far up as he could. England rolled his eyes and engulfed America's heat into his mouth, deep-throating his lover while humming pleasurably, moaning around America's cock. America groaned, tugging at his bonds and writhing around, just how England wanted him. England bobbed his head, his ass perked up and swaying provocatively as he sucked America off, cheeks hollowing out, green eyes foggy.

America whined helplessly, tugging at his bonds, almost animalistically.

"M-master.. let me t-touch you, nh-"

"Boy, bite your tongue!" England warned, giving America's cock a hard squeeze.

America gasped, tears of frustration and pleasure pooling in his eyes as England ghosted his lips over the American's cockhead. England moaned, tracing the vein that ran along the shaft. Slowly, softly, gently, it was as if he hadn't even touched it. America was growing impatient now, biting his lip to keep from crying out. England smirked and tugged the balls, lapping at America's member like a cat drinking up a saucer of milk. England moaned, it was all for show, really. He wasn't getting any real pleasure, just the pangs in his stomach from seeing his lover at his wit's end.

 _It's my doing. I made him like this. Only I can make him beg._ England thought dryly. He sucked on one of America's balls, feeling him tighten.

His lover spasmed under him, just like he always did before he came. England pulled away without warning, wiping the corner of his mouth and sneering,

"Now, now. You have to earn that." England said with a lopsided smile before smacking his lips and rising to his feet. England was glad he'd practiced walking on the mattress in heels, else he would've fallen down long before. England hopped off the bed, sitting on the corner and swinging his legs carelessly, tossing off his stilettos one by one.

"I-Iggy?"

"Hush, America!" England said with a smirk, "You're begging for punishment."

And then England smiled, dropping to the floor with his bare feet against the cold floor. "And you're getting one."

America whimpered (in a very manly way, thank you very much) as England regarded him, licking his lips unconsciously. He turned on his heel so his back faced America and ran his hands down his corset, fingers resting on the hem of his tight shorts, tugging them down just so.

America could see the tight leather of the shorts hugging that plump ass. America always loved England's body but with the corset defining England's hips and the shorts highlighting one of the most _delicious_ piece of work America had ever seen... America wasn't sure why he hadn't came already just looking at it.

He thought he'd seen it all 'till England discarded the shorts, the leather fabric pooling at his ankles. America's eyes widened as he took in the-

"P-panties?" America said, almost whining. England chuckled and tossed America a lustful look over the shoulder,

"Do you like it?"

America's adams apple bobbed nervously as England took steps toward him, swaying his hips ever-so-slightly as he bent over America's arousal, "Mm, you're getting what you deserve, America." he murmured, playing with the contraption in his hand before deciding to show it to his sub.

"W-what!? You can't use that on me!" America shrieked, "I'll die!"

England seethed, taking the leather cock-ring and fitting it onto America's arousal, smirking as his love squirmed under his touch. "You can't tell me what and what not to do, slave. Now, beg for release. Come on, beg."

America threw his head back onto the pillows, baring that simply bitable neck as England crawled to straddle him, "Ugh, please E-... Master."

"Please what."

"Take off the cock-ring."

"Nope, try again." England said, voice silken smooth. "Release your inner slut."

America bit his lip. If he did what England asked, not only would it take a hit on his major ego, but also give England major blackmail fodder. But, alas, England seemed bent on it, so America had no choice.

"Ride me, Master."

"Hmm?" England said, head twitching up to meet Alfred's gaze. He wasn't expecting Alfred to give in so easily, but he was glad he didn't have to use the whip again. Alfred looked a stone's throw away from tears.

"Um, r-ride me, Master."

"And why should I?" England said coyly, sliding back so the erection rubbed against him. America hissed,

"You feel so good." America said, dreamlike, "P-please let me fuck you."

England grinned, bunching the fabric of the panties in his hand before twisting and ripping it clean off, much to America's hidden delight.

"Selfish." England muttered, gripping America's thighs and lining the American's tortured member to his entrance. "How bad do you want it, pet?"

"Ugh, real bad."

"How bad?"

"So, so, so, so, so bad!" America whined, like a child begging for sweets. England smirked, brushing the cockhead against his entrance just barely.

"Such a child, America." England said, tsking. "And you say you're a big boy now. Prove it to me? Prove it to Master that you're a big boy now."

America balked at that, muscles bulging as he tugged at the ropes. He let his lashes flutter in momentary confusion, before giving England a confident smile, "How about you see for yourself how big I've become?"

That was all England needed to hear. He went down on America, moaning and gripping the younger male's thighs, his brain filled in the pain-pleasure haze. While really waiting for himself to adjust to America's size, he pretended as if he was going to stay that way. Just sit there and tease Alfred.

"Aww come on!" America whined, "M-move, please?"

"You want me to move?" England asked innocently, trying not to let the burning in his lower back get to him. He wanted this too bad.

"Please, Master!" America practically begged, thrusting his hips up weakly. "OhgodfuckingkillmePLEASE."

The torture had only begun.

England rode America relentlessly, the real pleasure only beginning for the island nation. The Brit gasped and moaned as he bounced on his boyfriend's arousal, one hand supporting himself up while the other hand pleasured himself shamelessly. England's corset had come loose (he couldn't tie it right if the world depended on it) and had began to push up against his erect nipples with every bounce, creating a delicious friction. America groaned, thrusting his hips up lightly to try to get his fill, but it didn't feel right.

Just watching England should've been enough to make America come. The act he'd put up with the whole 'Master' thing, it had all come down to this. England giving America the ride of his life. He could feel the orgasm, but it didn't happen. It just lingered. America groaned, this was all too much.

England moaned again as America's cock hit his prostate particularly hard. He angled himself and kept rolling his hips and going down on the erection until he felt the orgasm rock his body, his skin flushing a becoming pink, his eyes slightly rolling upwards. He choked out another moan before collapsing on his boyfriend, almost expecting America's cock to soften inside him, but it didn't. Still as rock hard as ever before, America's engorged erection was far from release (well, really close but never reaching), tanned skin glistening with the sheen of sweat, carmel-blonde hair disheveled and masking his electric blue eyes. America groaned, shaking his head side to side in disbelief,

"England, please."

And England did. He pulled away and undid the cock ring, giving America's cock one last tug and watching his lover come in utter bliss.

England moved to remove the bonds but was surprised when America did it himself, tugging his wrists harshly and snapping the thick ropes. He thrashed his legs free as well, groaning as he picked his upper body off the mattress before staring at England in disbelief.

"What the fuck, England."

England didn't respond. He let his hands drop limp to his lap but refused to look away first.

"I kept saying stop, but you didn't."

England perked up at that, "Well, you didn't use the safe word, so I thought you were kidding." he said slyly.

When America didn't reply, England let his eyes travel up to his lover's face. America was smiling down fondly at him, sore hands coming to trace England's hips over the corset. "Fuck, babe, you are so hot."

England smirked, tilting his chin up to meet America's in a quick kiss. "Did you like it?"

"Fuck yeah." America said, breathless. He pulled England in for another kiss, this one rough, lip nipping, teeth clashing. England smiled as he was pulled onto Alfred's lap. "Ya know, I never thought you'd want something like this."

"Yeah? Well, surprise!" England said sarcastically, pulling America in for another demanding kiss.

The American happily obliged, gripping England like a vice, and drawing him closer. This kiss was full of the urgency that America hadn't gotten, hot flashes of tongue, sloppily clashing lips.

America roughly pinched England's nipples, causing the island nation to gasp and moan ever-so-slightly. America used the distraction to move down to England's neck, sucking and licking at the creamy skin. Arthur bared his neck, whimpering as the rough pads of America's fingers abused his nipples.

"Well, next time, it's my turn." Alfred murmured, giving England's ass a slap. "And don't say I never did anything for you, babe."

England's lips bloomed into a smile and America mirrored his expression before grabbing England's chin and wrenching it up for green to meet blue.

"And I'll show you just how big I've gotten."

* * *

 **I suck at this shit. Please don't kill me XD** **But I would do better if England was completely sub. Power bottom isn't something I've come across before, so forgive me if it's strange. And forgive my grammar mistakes. This girl just wants to please the readers, and I might of just skimmed over this and... yeah, so...**

 **This is for BadDragonBaBe and this was like, really late and rushed, so please forgive me. I had my amazing friends OutToGarden and Kat Katrinna read over this. Seriously guys, you should read some of their stuff, and for a better power-bottom experience XD read Kat Katrinna's 30 Days of USUK, chap. Dom-Sub. It's good stuff!**

 **And uh, like I said, I'm not familiar with this, and.. yeah.**


	3. A Hero and His Villain

_3\. A Hero and His Villain_

* * *

 _Alfred is a superhero, but there are somethings not even powers can give you._

* * *

Alfred didn't sign up for this.

All the stories, movies, legends... they all made it sound like a breeze. Kill the bad guy, get the babes. The entire town would love you forever. Cue the statues of honor, and babies lined up to be kissed on the forehead. Given the key to the city, and maybe even a cape! But he never expected all his dreams would end up so badly. So very badly. So, so _terribly._

The American visibly shuddered as he silently flew through the cold night air. Fingers curling into fists at his sides. He'd never thought he'd be so close to destroying the person that plagued his city... but end up succumbing to his inner feelings. He didn't have time to think it through his heart. What mattered most were his people, and how they suffered. The choice shouldn't be hard for him.

But it was.

Now, he stood before the door, his fist almost coming up to knock at it, before he remembered. The person who lived there wasn't the the man he once had been.

Alfred contemplated kicking it down, but it would cause unnecessary attention. Instead, he resorted to lock picking it like the dirty thieves he had to catch. Slowly, quietly, nimbly, for the good of his people... he opened the door, and stepped into the apartment. The one that had been like a second home to him only a week ago.

That was before he found out. Before he _knew._

It was dark inside, pitch black. But Alfred knew exactly how to maneuver around it. He knew the apartment like the back of his hand. He climbed up the stairs slowly, skipping the one that he knew made the loud creak, dodging the one with the protruding nail. Everything was so familiar, yet foreign. The wallpaper had been changed at least twice since he last saw it. What had used to be a pastel blue, was now a peeling, dull green.

He made his way to the white glow behind the closed door. Alfred remembered the countless sleepovers, giggles, sobs, pizza slices, secrets, laughter... he remembered _everything_ that had happened behind that door.

But he wished he could forget. He wished his powers could relieve him of all the pain in his heart as it did to others. He wished he could just forget everything and go by the judgment of his head, but his heart always got in the way.

Which was really bad in this case.

Alfred pressed his ear to the door, listening in on anything that would help him change his mind. Anything that could prove that his information was wrong. Anything at all.

But all he heard was his own heartbeat in his ears. Beating like a deadly drum in his veins. His breathing became something of a pant as he just sat there, silence becoming unbearable. He could hear the annoying ticking of the clock in the hall downstairs. He'd always wanted to chuck that stupid thing out the window. It was ridiculously stressful.

Why wasn't he doing anything? He was biding his time. Waiting, like a predator on the prowl. Waiting for the right moment to strike-

Or, he was just scared. Scared of having to hurt what he cared about. Scared of being given the choice to kill or be killed.

He never wanted this.

 _"Oh, Alfred?_ Love, how long are you going to be out there? I'm getting _lonely_ in here." Came the piercing, yet smooth voice, drifting through the door, startling the American. He skipped a heartbeat as he slowly swung the door open.

And there he was.

If he saw Arthur Kirkland in any other circumstances, he'd give him his signature bear hug. The two had been best friends for years, and when Alfred had gotten his powers, Arthur had been the first person he'd told.

But it had all gone wrong. They weren't supposed to meet like this. It was far from Alfred's many whimsical sketches of him and Arthur dressed in matching outfits, saving the world, fighting the leather-clad bad guys... But little did he know then, that Arthur would be the one in leather. And one day, they would end up on the battlefield. It was nearly inevitable.

Only nearly.

"Alfred, I'm glad you could make it." Arthur crooned, crooking a slender finger under the American's chin. "I was afraid you'd stand me up."

Alfred wasn't surprised at the casualty of Arthur's tone. He inwardly balked at how close those eyes were to his. Those big, green eyes that had prompted Alfred to befriend him in the first place, were now so amazingly disarming. Luring him from his very purpose of the visit.

Alfred's adam's apple bobbed nervously and he forced a smile, "How could I afford to ignore you, Arthur?" he said, trying to be confident but failing miserably. His pupils quivered at the color of those eyes. So alluring. Enchanting. Hypnotizing. Like a garden of forbidden fruit.

Arthur crinkled his slightly freckled nose, pinching the fabric of Alfred's clothing. "And you're still wearing this kitsch uniform? How tasteless you are, dear lad. Though, you've been that way from the start."

His accent rolled off his tongue like honey, and Alfred wished he could say something back. Add to the banter. But sadly, he couldn't. It would all be in vain.

Arthur had always liked the idea of a villain clad-in-black. Alfred supposed that's why Arthur had been wearing the leather jacket that day. With the collar all turned up. It would look ridiculous on anyone else, but it worked on Arthur. _Everything_ worked on Arthur.

"S-says the dude with guy liner." Alfred finally choked out. Arthur blinked a few times before smiling. This was not a warm smile, nor was it genuine. It was just for show. That, Alfred could tell.

"So, you _can_ speak." Arthur said, taking a few steps back. A cigarette was nestled between his fingers, and Arthur took a long drag, blowing rings of smoke into Alfred's face. Alfred crinkled his nose and resisted the urge to cough. Instead he cleared his throat.

He never knew that Arthur smoked.

"So, what brings you to my doorstep, hm? Why have you come to spy on me?"

As if Arthur had been smoking long enough- or maybe it was just for show- Arthur put out his cigarette, resulting in a quick spark of dying embers, and a smear of ash on the wall.

"Aren't you at least going to act like you're not guilty?" The question was laden with disbelief. Alfred didn't want to believe it. Was Arthur admitting to his crime?

"Oh, but I am." Arthur said smoothly, coming back up to place a hand flat against Alfred's chest, "So very guilty... Have you come to punish me?"

Alfred turned a flattering shade of red, "That's what heroes do."

Arthur grinned at that. This was the grin of a mad man. The kind of grin that would be on the face of a lion as it gazed down at a rabbit... if lions could grin, that is. "And you still think you are a hero, don't you? Why don't you just give up, Alfred?" Arthur had begun to run his hands up to Alfred's shoulders, getting uncomfortably casual with the American. As if he were just a friend adjusting a halloween costume. "As if a boy who could barely put two and two together could be a fair match against me."

Alfred blinked, trembling a bit before regaining his words. "When did you become this, Arthur?"

Arthur had not been expecting that. Clearly. The Brit's normally smug face twisted into a scowl and he bunched the fabric of Alfred's clothing into his fist, tugging the tall American down to meet him eye to eye, "I never _became_ this, Alfred. I simply _discovered_ it."

Alfred couldn't help thinking it sounded so comic-book like. Like the words on the crumpled, colored paper he'd read under his blanket at night. The dirty old comic books under his flashlight, they all had confrontations such as these. Villains and their monologues.

"Now if you weren't such a daft clotpole, you'd know that I'd never wanted to be just a sidekick. So you got the brawn, fine! I don't need brawn when I have brains, yes? I do believe you told me that yourself." he spat, eyes searing into Alfred's very being. "I can never be loved like you are. But you see, I don't need love when I have fear. Love is so unstable, but fear? It's forever."

Alfred chuckled. A dry and humorless laugh. "You really think that?"

Arthur's breaths seemed quite labored from the outburst, fist unclenching slowly and steadily, not to seem like Alfred had gained the upper hand. "Yes, Alfred. I do. Care to make me think otherwise?"

Alfred's lashes fluttered and he felt his heart sink. Had _he_ been the reason Arthur became this? What happened to the idiot whose eyes glittered at the talk of fairies and unicorns? What happened to the boy who could talk his breath away about the universe… or life after death… or some other _completely_ nerdy thing?

What happened to _his_ Arthur?

Alfred could barely recognize the man before him. He didn't know this man.

Yet he kissed him.

Leaning down, he captured Arthur's lips in a kiss. Something they hadn't done in a long while. But this time it wasn't just an experiment, no. This time, it was a statement.

Arthur kissed back of course. Why wouldn't he? The kiss was not enthusiastic, but rather slow, languid and sloppy. Lips clashing quite carelessly, lacking experience. Arthur's arm found its way around Alfred's neck, roping him in closer, deeper. Alfred could still taste the smoke on Arthur's breath, but he couldn't bring himself to care. His own mind was put in a haze, he was too high up in the clouds to notice. Alfred looped his arm around Arthur's waist, drawing him in, trying to envelope him in his warmth, and Arthur smirked into the kiss.

Alfred felt something hard press into his abdomen.

But it wasn't what it seemed.

Alfred glanced down and confirmed his fear. The barrel of a gun poking right at him. Right into him. Alfred tried not to look as terrified as he was as Arthur's finger rested on the trigger. The blue-eyed blonde let his gaze flicker up to the coy look in Arthur's eyes. Kiss-glistening lips curled up into a smile and Alfred suppressed a gasp.

"Why are you doing this?"

Arthur scoffed, backing away a bit as if deciding on pacing, but choosing not to. "You came here to _kill_ me, Alfred. I might as well kill _you_ before you get the chance."

Alfred stammered, "I didn't come here to hurt you, honest! I came to try to change your mind, Arthur. I care about you. Let me protect you."

Arthur's lined eyes widened, and he spoke out in a loud exclamation, voice unnaturally stern.

"I don't need your protection."

But both of them knew the claim was false. There was never a better option for Arthur. He needed someone to help him out of the pit in his mind. His mother had so fondly put it as steering away from the path of flowers, as it always led to destruction. One would be lured in by those sweet, sweet petals. Alfred needed to take Arthur through the path to righteousness. The path that went through brambles, but always led to victory.

It was a much harsher comparison in reality.

"From the beginning, it has always been about you. I don't want you, Alfred. I'd rather you kill me instead of make me live forever in your shadow."

Alfred didn't respond. He bit his lip, his hand coming up to slowly grip Arthur's wrist, wrenching away the gun as gently as he could, like he was pulling a toy from the jaws of a dog. Arthur inwardly fumed.

"And what exactly do you think you're doing?"

It was too late for him to make a blind grab to his weapon. Arthur yelped as the gun was pressed against him instead. The tables had turned.

"Well, you were too busy monologuing, so I figured I'd take your gun and see what your face would look like." Alfred said with a smirk, a hint of his childish mirth lurking in his voice. Arthur felt his own mouth quirk up.

"Idiot." he muttered with a sigh, "Always pretending to hold the power. You could never shoot me, Alfred. But go ahead. Try."

Alfred's eyes widened.

"And you say I've changed? What about you? The boy who couldn't see a foot ahead of him without his glasses... "

"It's called contacts." Alfred snapped in reply, fingers trembling on the trigger. "And I will hurt you, Arthur. If you don't stop with the bad-guy act."

"I'm wounded!" Arthur said, pressing his palm to his chest with a mock-insulted look on his face. "Do you really believe it's an act, child?"

"I'm not a child."

"But you sure kiss like one." Arthur said with a hidden smile. Alfred narrowed his eyes before tugging Arthur into yet another kiss, pretending it was only because Arthur had insulted his skill. But really, he knew he couldn't get enough.

Arthur chuckled as the American's enthusiasm, gripping those broad shoulders and kissing back with a fire in him that he'd lacked in the kiss before. "Now, that's what I call a kiss." Arthur said, dazed as he slowly worked off his jacket, "So you're really going to shoot me, eh?"

"N-no. Not if you give this up."

"But I can't!" Arthur said, tossing his jacket to the floor, "You may love being a hero, but know this, I love being a villain just as much."

"Then I-"

"Oh shut up for a while, boy." Arthur scowled, "Humor me. Can I have a last wish before I'm… er- shot?"

Alfred swallowed thickly. Arthur was making fun of him. He didn't believe that Alfred had the guts to shoot.

"What?"

"Kiss me again." Arthur breathed with a smirk, "And maybe we could go further than we've ever gone before?"

Alfred shook his head, gazing grimly at anything but Arthur. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

"Oh come on!" Arthur said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Don't you want me?"

"Don't say that." Alfred snapped, "That's not what this is."

"Then what is this?" Arthur said, raising his eyebrow. Alfred didn't reply. He stared down at the trembling gun in his hand and wondered if he could actually pull the trigger. Could he?

Arthur caressed Alfred's face in what could've be mistaken for just friendly, if you didn't see the love masked in the emerald eyes. Arthur blinked it away and pressed his lips onto Alfred's skin, kissing along his jaw, breathing in Alfred's scent. "Don't deny me, Alfred." Arthur murmured, not minding his unresponsive lover. He pressed himself onto Alfred, onto the gun, embracing the possibility of his death, pushing himself into Alfred desperately. "You know you need it."

Arthur was his drug.

Alfred gripped Arthur's blonde curls, tugging them back to attack his exposed neck with slightly chapped lips, gun now confident in his closed fingers. Arthur smiled, working on unbuttoning his own shirt. "You can't ignore me."

So very true. Alfred's fingers searched out the warmth of Arthur's skin, creeping under his shirt, brushing against the creamy expanse. Arthur soon tossed off the thing keeping his torso hidden, letting the white shirt hit the floor. Alfred traced Arthur's slight hips with his fingers, eyes looking anywhere but into the striking green ones.

"Now let's get you out of that stupid supersuit."

Alfred smirked, "Bet'cha you can't find the zipper."

Arthur scowled, "I could just tear it off. Looks cheap enough."

Alfred rolled his eyes at that. Arthur wasn't known for being impatient. But when it came to things like these…

Mind you, they didn't go at it like bunnies _all the time._ In fact, before Alfred found out about his powers, he and Arthur were simply the best of friends, and Alfred was working up his inner man to ask Arthur out.

They'd kissed many times in the past, but none of them were _real._ Just experimentation. The only practice Alfred loved to do. He'd kiss Arthur until their lips were swollen... then they'd play video games. He never knew how it came to be, and they'd never really put a _label_ on their relationship, but Alfred loved it anyway.

But then came the dreaded science fair, and Arthur just _had_ to experiment with all those weird chemicals.

Alfred could still remember it, as clear as glass. When everything had gone wrong, but right. Sweet serendipity. Then _bam!_ Alfred was his own Captain America. _Alfred_ became the experiment.

That was the climax of their story. After that point, they slowly drifted apart. Alfred was the hot guy on the team. Arthur was the dude in the audience, watching with his breath held in his lungs, cheering inwardly every time Alfred scored, because yes, Arthur was still hung up on Alfred. Even though he was long forgotten in the American's mind.

But time was cruel to Alfred. Soon, his powers became stronger, forcing him to comply to their needs. He was discovered. His hero identity known to the city. He was finally the hero he'd always wanted to be. But no one knew the real Alfred.

Arthur's arms wrapped around Alfred's chest, reaching for the zipper in the back, and Alfred almost laughed watching the Brit's face turn red with effort.

"Want me to get that?"

"Bloody berk." Arthur mumbled. Alfred unzipped his suit with ease, watching as Arthur's nimble hands slid the material off of the tanned, muscular body. "I'm only doing this for your six-pack, you know."

Alfred raised his eyebrows as he was tugged to the floor.

"You're too bloody attractive. Sometimes, I wonder how it happened!" Arthur mused, crawling onto Alfred's lap. He gripped Alfred's chin and kissed him until the man was breathless. Just like they used to.

It took a while for Alfred to start responding, but the whole thing was exceptionally weird for him. How did he allow himself to be roped into this?

Arthur knew what he was doing. And Alfred knew it too. Arthur was trying to seduce the hero. Just like all of the best villains did. And Alfred told himself he wasn't going to fall for it.

But then Arthur began to wiggle out of his jeans, exposing his long, pale legs. The Brit smirked, tossing the pants- or as he would put it, _trousers-_ behind him. "Come on. Take off the rest of the suit and let's go a few rounds."

"I can't believe you just said that." Alfred said in disbelief, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a half-hearted, tired smile. Arthur chuckled, shaking his head as if he couldn't believe he'd said it either. Since when was he the needy one?

"Then what do you want me to say?" Arthur asked, tilting his head. "Do you want me to be direct? Fuck me."

Alfred's eyes widened and he hoped to God he didn't look as flustered as he was. "What?"

"Oh come on!" Arthur exclaimed, " _No one_ is daft enough to not know what that means!"

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows and Arthur sighed,. "Give me your hand."

Alfred tilted his head, feeling rather uncomfortable having his former friend perched on his lap. His grip on the gun tightened and he gasped as Arthur grabbed his other hand. "Wh-why?"

Arthur smirked an evil smirk… it was about as evil as they got. Gripping Alfred's wrist, Arthur brought the American's fingers to his lips, running his hot tongue over the digits.

Alfred was taken aback by the gesture, "Arthur, what the actual fuck!?"

Arthur's lips closed around two of Alfred's fingers, suckling them silently. Covering them in his saliva. And Alfred watched with wide blue eyes, not knowing if he was supposed to speak, or just watch. "A-Arthur?"

Arthur was enjoying himself way too much. He relished the debauched look on the otherwise innocent features… and knowing he was its cause? It was simply all too delicious.

He pulled away with a pop, pressing a kiss onto the tips of the fingers. Alfred stared at his glistening digits and let his gaze flicker up to Arthur's, "W-"

"Put them in." Arthur declared. Alfred's eyes widened for the umpteenth time that day as Arthur crawled off his lap, pushing his gray boxers to his knees, exposing himself to the cool air in the room. Alfred could see that Arthur was half-aroused already. Nothing impressive, but it was a sight Alfred had never seen… and never really wanted to. Until now.

"You want me to-"

Arthur shifted his position, flipping onto his stomach and raising his hips, propping his knees up against the cold floor. "Yes. I want you to put them in."

Alfred blinked, unresponsive to Arthur's request. Instead he just sat there, feeling every bit of inexperienced as he was. Not only had he _never_ engaged in this type of thing before, but he also didn't know if he wanted to. He came here to treat Arthur like the villain he was, and did heroes normally do these things as interrogation?

The sound of Arthur laughing softly cut through his train of thought, completely derailing the damn thing and tossing it down into reality.

"Oh that's right, you're still a virgin." Arthur said, tossing him a look over his shoulder. "All the popularity and you still never got laid?"

Arthur sat up, back toward the American, and Alfred could see the bumps of Arthur's spine against the creamy expanse of skin.

"I was saving up for someone special." Alfred blurted out. Arthur stilled,

"I'm flattered."

Arthur spun around and Alfred could see just how flattered he was. Arthur's erection stood tall and proud, a flushed, dusky pink.

He quickly crawled back into Alfred's lap and captured his lips once again, kissing him fiercely. "Be comfortable around me, Alfred." he murmured, caressing the side of his face. Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist reluctantly, shivering as Arthur moaned into the kiss.

Alfred's lips travelled down to Arthur's neck and Arthur let out a quivering breath, his shoulder hitching rhythmically as he pleasured himself with his other hand. Alfred gripped Arthur's waist and ran his tongue back up and slipped it past Arthur's parted lips, engaging in a battle for dominance with Arthur's own slick muscle.

Arthur nipped at Alred's lower lip and smirked, "Well if you won't put it in, I will."

Alfred's eyes widened, but he didn't make a sound. Not one sound of protest, not one sound against it, though everything in him told him he should. He remained silent as he was pushed down onto his back. Arthur's small, lithe form crawled over him, pinning him down in a way Alfred found mildly humourous. But mostly terrifying.

"And what do you think you're doing?" Alfred asked, cocking an eyebrow. Arthur narrowed his eyes, and for a moment, he looked like the kid Alfred had fallen in love with. But then it was gone.

"Getting my fill." Arthur growled, hand creeping between Alfred's legs. "All my efforts, and you're not even hard!"

Alfred slapped Arthur's hand away, trying so very hard to stay on topic. "Well, you're not giving me anything worthwhile."

Arthur's lips curled into a smile, "I think you're just shy. Or maybe you're scared? Maybe you don't even know what to do."

Alfred's eyes narrowed and his hand clenched into a fist, "You know I have a gun, right?"

"Do you?"

Alfred frowned a little and glanced down at his hand. "I do."

And there it was. In his fist. Where it had been the whole time. He shook it to make his point.

"It's empty." Arthur said with a wicked grin. Alfred gaped and Arthur laughed, a low, villainous laugh. Not quite a _mwa-ha-ha_ but another laugh that was equally menacing. Or… at least as menacing as he could look, half naked and fully aroused. "You should see the look on your face! As if I'd let you have the upper hand!"

He crawled between Alfred's legs, tugging the blue boxers down as far as he could, "After all, what kind of villain would I be if I was too _easy?"_

Arthur grabbed the gun and tossed it behind him, suddenly putting on a commanding expression. "Get up."

Alfred scrambled to his feet bemusedly, not knowing quite what was expected of him. His painfully flaccid member was fully exposed to whatever naughty deeds Arthur had in mind for him.

The Brit licked his lips, "Are you ready?"

"Never have been." Alfred said nervously. Arthur smiled a cheshire cat grin.

"Good."

He ran the flat of his tongue up the underside of Alfred's cock, getting up on his knees to be able to reach. Time seemed to still for Alfred, but Arthur kept going. Lapping experimentally at Alfred's member, skillful fingers pumping Alfred's length as lips stretched around the head, sucking gently before bobbing his head to take in more. Arthur's hot tongue swirled around Alfred's hardening cock and the American weaved his fingers into Arthur's hair, pulling him closer, coaxing him further, soundlessly.

Alfred bit his lip as Arthur began to deep-throat him. Taking him as far as he could go. Finally using that mouth for something good rather than chastising, chiding, and other snappy things Arthur loved to do.

Alfred's knees trembled and he moaned lightly, much to Arthur's content. The Brit began to hum, and through Alfred's pleasured haze, he caught the tune of "God Save the Queen" and rolled his eyes.

Arthur hollowed his cheeks, and Alfred saw stars. His eyes rolling up to look at the ceiling as he moaned and pulled Arthur closer. But sadly, the Brit pulled away, running his tongue back up the hot length before looking Alfred straight in the eyes,

"You're so big, Alfred." he commented, watching Alfred turn a shade of dark red. "Not quite the boy I took you for."

Alfred was extremely flustered, lashes fluttering as he tried to think of something to say in response.

 _No, no, no, Arthur! Why did you stop?_ The words never made it past his mouth. Arthur began to kiss his way up to Alfred's abdomen, gripping Alfred's waist and looking up at him with lust-clouded eyes.

"Are you going to fuck me now?"

 _Don't mind if I do._

Alfred was led to the bed, kicking off his boxers completely and watching as Arthur laid on the mattress, completely on his back.

Alfred climbed over him. Well, was dragged over him, was a better way to put it. Arthur gripped Alfred's shoulders, tugging him down into what Alfred thought was going to be a kiss. But instead, the Brit leveled his lips with Alfred's ear.

"If you really want to defeat me, fuck me so hard I won't be able to _walk."_

Alfred gulped and Arthur began to mouth at his throat, sucking his adam's apple and eliciting a quiet noise from the American.

Arthur wrapped his legs around Alfred's waist, "Just put it in, I'm already prepared."

Alfred shuddered, "Was that what you were doing waiting for me on the other side of the door?"

Arthur's eyes sparkled, "He speaks again."

Alfred frowned, running his hands up Arthur's thighs and pressing a kiss on the junction of Arthur's neck. The Brit took the action as an invitation to shut up. Grinning, Arthur rocked his hips against Alfred's, running his hands over the expanse of Alfred's tanned back. The American sighed contently and lapped at Arthur's collar bone, making marks that stood out against the creamy pale skin like deliberate art.

Arthur let out a shaky breath as Alfred lifted himself off his body, hands searching around the drawer until he found the small bottle of lubricant.

"You still keep this here." Alfred said, chuckling.

"I haven't used it since." Was Arthur's reply.

Pouring the content of the liquid across his fingers, Alfred rubbed his hands before lathering his girth, a hiss escaping his lips as his hand came in contact with his engorged cock. After a few half-hearted pumps, he angled their hips. And with one fluid push, Alfred was inside. Flushed, dusky cockhead pushing through the tight inner walls.

Alfred was inside Arthur's warm heat, long legs trembling at the compression. Blue eyes flickered over Arthur's expression and found it to be strangely calm. The corner of Arthur's mouth quirked up and he chuckled.

"What, don't know what to do next?" Arthur teased, tilting his head back and panting softly, "Should've known you didn't have it in you."

Alfred ground his teeth. Arthur knew exactly what not to say to him. He had a degree in agitating, which made for a perfect movie villain. Not particularly Disney, but as sexy as they got.

Arthur shot him a smirk, "Are you going to move or did I get my hopes up for nothing?"

Alfred was taken aback by Arthur's shameless bluntness… but then again, who was he not to oblige?

Arthur's nails raked at the bedsheets Alfred fucked him from behind. The American found it easier that way, to pretend Arthur was someone else. Someone he could fuck into next Tuesday, and not even care. The green-eyed man had been forced onto his stomach, hips propped up by his knees, Alfred's large hands gripping him like a vice.

Green eyes were misty, a bit of that damp, salty water ran down Arthur's sharp cheekbones and the Brit half-laughed, half-moaned, voice being muffled by Alfred's hand roughly pushing his face into the pillow, the lack of air in Arthur's lungs strangely thrilling. Tilting his face to the side, Arthur groaned as a particularly hard thrust sent him reeling, noises pushing past his lips, lewd and loud into the humid air.

Alfred threw his head back and moaned softly, beads of perspiration dotting his hairline as his hips thrusted and jerked into Arthur almost animalistically, aching for more of that hot, tight space, not caring if he was pounding mercilessly. Alfred figured that the villain would like it rough, and so far, he wasn't wrong.

The American loomed over the smaller man, movements becoming more desperate, and Arthur could recognize the soft sounds Alfred was making above him, soft, pleasured puffs of air escalating into louder moans and harder thrusts, hitting Arthur's prostate with every move, sending Arthur deeper and deeper, but not deep enough. Alfred's noises became more desperate and Arthur hissed in response,

"If you know what's good for you, you better be nowhere _near_ coming."

Alfred didn't reply, he just trailed kisses up Arthur's spine, biting down hard on the Brit's porcelain shoulder and jerking in one last time before shooting his seed deep inside Arthur with a loud, high-pitched, slightly embarrassing noise that darkened his cheeks. Blonde lashes fluttered shut and he collapsed upon the man beneath him, burying his nose in the crook of Arthur's neck, placing an open-mouthed kiss on the skin there.

"Alfred Jones!" Arthur shrieked, heating up underneath him and flailing around a bit, attempting to shove the larger male off him, "For the hero you say you are, you're quite the selfish man!"

Alfred chuckled, rolling Arthur over and running his tongue over the other man's lips, nipping and sucking at them leisurely.

"Oi! Don't kiss me, you twat!" Arthur yelped, gripping the American's face and pushing it away, hiding his eyes behind his palms, " _Get off."_

For a moment, it seemed like Alfred had listened. There was no more weight resting on Arthur, not even a breath ghosting over his skin.

A pair of warm hands gripped Arthur's thighs, spreading his legs apart before a hot mouth took in Arthur's aching length. The Englishman moaned, hands coming to grip Alfred's head as he half-heartedly thrust up into the hot, wet feeling.

"A-Alfred!"

The American's skillful tongue swirled around the oversensitive skin and Arthur's breath hitched, legs trembling. "A-Al-Ah!"

And he was undone, Alfred's mouth filling with his bitter semen.

"Swallow." Arthur ordered, panting, and the bespectacled blonde hesitantly swallowed the thick fluid, sky blue eyes fluttering up to look at the expression on Arthur's flushed face.

Arthur looked down at him with a loopy, hazey grin on his face. "What would the city do if they saw their hero like this?"

Saying so, and attempting to emphasize his question, Arthur pulled Alfred on top of him, rewarding his ministrations with a lazy, content kiss. Alfred moaned into the kiss, stroking Arthur's cheekbone almost lovingly, looping his arm around Arthur's waist and pulling him closer against him.

"Don't get _too_ comfortable, love." Arthur said with a dark chuckle, crooking a finger under Alfred's chin, "I've got a little challenge for you first."

Another kiss. This one making Alfred shudder for some unknown reason.

"Remember the Elementary school I went to? The one with all the bullies? They used to terrorize me so much… remember? Then I moved here… and found you."

Alfred's lips quirked up at that. Arthur's long, thin fingers combed through Alfred's caramel hair, touching their foreheads together lightly, and Alfred felt a flicker of hope spark in his heart. He could live like this, pulling the darkness out of his Arthur, making him whole again-

"That Elementary school is going to go _boom_ at precisely seven in the morning, taking thousands of children with it." Arthur said simply. "So… shoo. You know I like a good show."

Alfred's eyes slowly widened as Arthur's words sunk in. The hero wasn't expecting this… well, if he said that, he'd be lying. Arthur wasn't the perkiest pea in the pod, but there certainly was hope in Alfred's heart that the villain would get better.

The American hopped out of bed, snatching his costume off the floor and slipping into it as hastily as he could with the pleasure still riding in his veins. Trembling as he zipped the suit on, he threw Arthur one last glance-

"And if you come back successful, I might just _indulge_ you." Arthur murmured, blowing the other man a kiss.

And then Alfred was out the window, soaring through the air in a hurried frenzy. He had no idea where the school was, but he was motivated by the thought of being the savior of thousands of kids and parents-

And maybe a little indulging for him as well.

* * *

 _ **Author's note: Ignore any stupid mistakes and stuff. I had a friend beta-read this, but I was still in a hurry to get it to you guys :)**_

 _ **Gargoyl: Awh! Thanks!**_

 _ **Kat Katrinna: 50 Shades of Gray is untrustworthy XD And thank you, I try 3 And America technically can break ropes because he has super-strength, remember?**_

 _ **BadDragonBaBe: You're welcome**_

 _ **Mysterious Voice: Haha! I am new at this, but practice is good to have, which is why this fanfic happened! And you know what? Your comment made my day. I'll consider writing more teacher-parent AU, just for you ;)**_

 _ **Nekowhoopies: What do you mean public? Like, on the streets or something? You've piqued my curiosity, I'd love to hear what you had in mind with that suggestion.**_

 _ **Also, I already have an idea for the next chapter and I've written it... almost all of it, so it may be a while for me to get to your requests :)**_


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